This Brilliant Dance
by Truccy
Summary: Ginny Weasley wasn’t supposed to love Harry Potter anymore. She had tried once, and it had only led to heartbreak. But with Voldemort fast on the rise, and feelings reaching the breaking point, can she deny herself much longer?
1. He's Just a Boy

**This Brilliant Dance**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. _

_Author's Note: Just a story I've been wanting to write for a while about my favorite couple in the series. If you're looking for a story where Harry and Ginny get together sweet and fast, this really isn't for you. It's going to be a pretty gradual development for these two with a lot of work on both parts. On a lighter note, if that's what you're looking for, enjoy! (Or at least, I hope you will). Please, please read and review, and remember that constructive criticism is always welcome._

Ginny Weasley was miserable.

Not a common feeling for her, she would assure anybody in a heartbeat because, in fact, it wasn't.

But in light of recent events, how could she not feel this way? How could anyone not feel this way? After her journey down into the Department of Mysteries last year, which had been fouled up smartly when Sirius, Harry Potter's godfather, died, nothing had ever felt the same.

Ginny had thought she was ready to face Voldemort. She really had. All her training with the D.A., a club she herself had thought up the name of, her better-than-average marks in school, and not the least to mention her previous encounter with the memory of Voldemort in her first year…she hadn't once presumed she wasn't justified to tag along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, bringing Neville and Luna along with her.

But she had been wrong.

All that so-called training had meant nothing. Demonstrations in the classroom were nothing compared to what she had faced that night. What they all had faced.

Ginny herself had proved to be little more than useless. Not only had she nearly been taken by the Death Eaters (and would have been if had not for Harry stepping in and saving her once again), but not fifteen minutes into the race for their lives had she been forced to curl into a corner, struck down with a broken ankle. Moments later, she had allowed herself to be stupefied.

Fat lot of good she had done for their cause.

Ginny buried her face in her hands. And then there was Harry to think about. Poor, poor Harry. He had lost what could have very well been the person he cared most about in the world. Even Neville, one of her best friends, refused to give many details about what had happened. Apparently, Harry's reaction had just been that bad.

How she wished she could talk to him about it! But it wasn't her place. It never would be. She knew how Harry saw her, and it wasn't as a close confidante or any of the other things she wished she could be to him. She was still, and probably always would be, Ron Weasley's little sister.

It wasn't a glamorous position to hold, to say the least. And with Harry barely opening up to Ron and Hermione when they were his best friends, she had absolutely no chance of him ever coming to her.

Not that it should bother her this much, Ginny reprimanded herself sternly. Last year at about this point in time, Ginny had made herself a promise. She was in no way to have any sort of interest in Harry romantically speaking.

But her being concerned, it fell under the friendly category, right?

Ginny shook her head. Perhaps, she should just stop thinking about Harry Potter period. For the moment anyway.

In hopes of distracting herself, Ginny made her way down from her bedroom to the kitchen, where excitement was guaranteed to be found at any given point in the day.

Sure enough, there was an energized buzz about when she stepped through the doorway.

Her mother was scurrying about in the kitchen, while Fred, George, and Ron sat at the table wolfing down the sandwiches in front of them. Ginny sent a surprised glance at the clock to see that it was already lunch time. For all the appetite she had, she might as well have just eaten a large breakfast ten minutes ago.

"Oh, dear," her mother was saying as she bustled around, "so much to do, so much to do."

Ginny took a tentative step closer. If she wasn't careful, she might find herself put to work. "What's going on, Mum?" she asked curiously.

However, it was Ron who answered her. "Harry's coming today," he mumbled with a mouthful of bread and ham. Ginny made a face. "Oh," Ron continued, either ignoring her or just simply not noticing, "and Hermione too." His tone was casual, as if he didn't care either way, but Ginny could pick up on the blush creeping up on the back of his neck. She had always suspected Ron had had somewhat of a crush on the best friend he claimed (falsely) to be a "sister."

Ginny knew he sure as hell didn't treat Hermione the same way he treated her.

But her older brother's thickness was not something she bothered to dwell on. She had done it enough times already, and it always led her to a headache. To think that such a dunderhead was related to her…

_He's not so bad_, Ginny admonished herself, a small smile coming to her lips as she eyed her older brother fondly, _A little overprotective, and yes, he's thick as porridge, but overall, I could have made off worse as far as brothers go._

"Ginny?" Suddenly she was aware of her name being called by the same brother in question.

"Yeah, Ron?" she asked sweetly.

He recoiled. It wasn't often Ginny talked to him in such a sickening tone. "Could you stop staring at me that way? It's sort of hard to eat when you've got that glazed, St. Mungo's look going on."

Ginny's smile faded immediately, a scowl replacing it. Her cheeks colored, and her fists clenched. _Of all the pigheaded things…_ "If anybody deserved St. Mungo's it'd be you, you complete, utter…prat!" she snapped as she stormed out of the room.

_To hell with Ron, _Ginny fumed, _Malfoy would make a better brother! At least he's got some wits about him._

Meanwhile, Ron sat in the kitchen, bemused, as the twins sniggered. "Girls," he muttered disgustedly before shrugging it off and taking another bite of his sandwich.

Luckily for him, Ginny took no notice of his typical inanity as she continued to storm out the door. By the time she had reached the old, enchanted swing her dad had made for her in the backyard when she was very little, most of her anger had dissipated, supplanted by a sense of both excitement and dismay, if that were possible.

Harry Potter was coming here.

Harry Potter was coming here, to the Burrow, today.

Ginny tugged on her hair, agitated. She couldn't see him. Not now. Not when her emotions were spinning out from underneath her and all the newfound self-control she had possessed last year was in danger of deserting her. At the beginning of last year, when she had completely given up hope of ever even having a real conversation with Harry Potter, let alone battle (if you could call it that) beside him, it had seemed so much easier. And then there had been Michael Corner.

Ginny wouldn't lie to herself. She had used the poor boy in the beginning. Grabbing him by the shirt collar when she sensed Harry's presence and snogging him senseless. But over time, she had truly begun to care for the boy a bit.

_Another brilliant move, _Ginny thought bitterly.

In the end, Michael had behaved like an utter prat, even worse than her brother, which up until then Ginny had not thought it possible, and then ran off to Cho Chang.

Ginny sighed. And now she had Dean. Dean was a nice boy, but he just didn't invoke any (Ginny's ears turned red as she thought this) _passion _in her. It wasn't that he wasn't handsome, because she had to admit he was one of the better looking fifth years at Hogwarts, his form lean and hard from what he described as a muggle sport that went by the name of football. It was just, well, she wasn't attracted to him. There was no spark she felt when she was around him. They had visited each other a couple times in Diagon Alley over the summer, seeing as he lived in the adjacent block to the entrance, and all she had to do was use Floo Powder, but each time felt more friendly than anything.

As far as distractions went, he failed miserably.

And she knew it wasn't fair to Dean to regard him as such. Her mother had told her time and time again never to lead a boy on, but Ginny couldn't help it. She _needed _to keep him around. Especially when Harry Potter was coming this very day, and she hadn't been able to get her mind off him for the past month, despite all her resolutions.

Ginny's thoughts were interrupted by the high-pitched call of her mother. "Ginny, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, "Harry and Hermione have arrived."

"Shit!" Ginny muttered under her breath, tightening her grasp against the rope of the swing. She hadn't realized she had so little time to prepare herself. She hadn't even brushed her hair that day!

And Harry…she needed a chance to compose herself, to brace herself against him. She couldn't just go in as the stammering, idiot fool she had been for so many years. Not after all the headway she had made last year.

_Think of Dean, _she instructed herself, _think of Dean and how nice he is and how it makes you feel when he kisses you._

Ginny made a face. _Oh, bugger it, he's not that good._

"Ginny!" her mom called again, her tone a bit more shrill. "Come and welcome our guests!"

Reluctantly, Ginny stood and smoothed out her robes. She combed her hands frantically through her hair as she walked up to the house, hoping to smooth out the kinks and tangles.

"You can do this, Gin," she murmured. "He's Harry bloody Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, savior of the wizarding world, but you can still do this. He's got no power over you anymore."

She paused a moment and shook her head. "Besides," she continued in a rather desperate attempt, "his scar really isn't all that attractive anyway."

Nevertheless, she found herself wiping her sweaty palms on her robes before she opened the door. She took one last calming breath, letting her eyes flutter shut. But when she opened them, she came face-to-face with…

"Harry," she breathed, despite herself.

Harry seemed rather shocked to find her at the doorway as well. "Err, hullo, Gin," he greeted awkwardly as he looked down at her. "Sorry about that, I was just about to fetch my trunk."

Ginny's confusion must have shown on her face because Harry began to elaborate. "Me and Hermione came on the Knight Bus, and your mum wanted us to have lunch before we had to drag our trunks up."

"Oh," Ginny replied, for lack of anything better to say. She shifted her weight uncomfortably and tried to think of something clever. It wasn't easy. It should have been. Around anyone else it would have been, but Ginny's heart sunk as she came to the conclusion that she did not regard Harry Potter as just anyone else.

She must have been thinking longer that she thought she had because she was soon broken out of her thoughts by Harry awkwardly trying to sidestep her. "Sorry," he mumbled, "I'll just be a moment."

"Oh, right," Ginny said hastily, a flush rising on the back of her neck as she gave him room to pass by. "I'm sorry."

Harry nodded in acknowledgment, and Ginny bit her lip as he walked away. She had made a terrible impression already. If she wasn't careful, all of her hard work last year would be worthless.

But Ginny didn't have the time to dwell as a newcomer appeared in the doorway. "Ginny!" Hermione squealed, wrapping the younger girl in a hug, "I thought I heard you out here. I'm sorry I didn't get to reply to your last letter, but Professor Dumbledore had just mailed me with the news that I could come here, and I was so busy packing, and it's really no excuse but…"

"Calm down," Ginny laughed, effectively cutting off Hermione's babbling. "It's all right. Really."

Hermione took a step back and eyed the girl, almost as if she didn't trust what Ginny was saying. When she found no reason to doubt Ginny's reassurances however, she drew the girl back into a tight hug. "Oh, it's_ so_ good to see you!"

Ginny smiled. Hermione could be bossy, and when she was in her first and second year, Ginny had found her outright annoying, but over time she had gotten used to Hermione's mannerisms, and they had become great friends, owling each other regularly. Hermione knew more about Ginny than anyone, although Ginny would not deny that she had chosen to keep a few secrets to herself.

"So I trust things are going well with you and Dean?" Hermione said with her eyes twinkling as she pulled back again.

Her real purpose for Dean was one of those secrets Ginny chose to keep to herself. "Wonderfully," Ginny nodded, forcing a smile to her face. "He's just so terrific to me, Hermione. You have no idea."

Over the years as pretty much a requirement for a girl growing up with six older brothers, Ginny had perfected the art of lying. Not a respectable talent, but a useful one all the same. Ginny was especially glad for it now when Hermione didn't catch her fib.

"Lucky girl," Hermione said enviously. Ginny only nodded in agreement.

But Hermione was not so easily deterred. "So have you seen him at all lately?"

"Not since the last letter I sent you," Ginny replied truthfully. "We've both been rather busy lately. He's sent me a note to meet him in Diagon Alley this weekend, but I haven't even gotten the chance to respond."

Hermione clapped her hands. "But that will be perfect! We should have our book lists by then, so you'll be able to have your date with Dean and pick up your school supplies with us all in one day. We can all have a chance to catch up with each other."

"Yeah," Ginny said glumly. "Because I really want to give Ron the chance to catch up with Dean."

Hermione's face fell, and she nodded at her friend sympathetically. "I'll try to keep Ron under control."

"Since you're the one he'll listen to," Ginny grumbled. It seemed as if Hermione went pink around the ears when she said this, and Ginny suspected that perhaps Hermione had a thing for her brother as well. There had been massive amounts of hinting in the letters this summer (_"So I don't suppose Ron has found a girl yet back there, has he? He was rather short in the last letter he sent me…"_). Ginny suppressed her laughter at the idea.

_Poor girl doesn't know what she's getting herself into, _Ginny thought with a shake of her head. _You'd think the girl at the top of her class would be clever enough to steer clear of Ron. _

Ron was Ginny's brother, and she loved him dearly, but the boy could drive a person nutters.

"Yes, well," Hermione said, breaking the abrupt silence, "we can get all the details sorted out later. I'm sure Ron won't behave too badly."

"Underestimating our dear little brother, eh Hermione?" Fred spoke up as he suddenly appeared at the doorway.

"An outrage," George agreed. "He's only learned from the best."

"Not the model student we expected him to be," Fred admitted.

"But we feel he's made sufficient progress," George said. "He knows all the basic commands."

Fred nodded in agreement. "Watch." He turned back towards Ron, who apparently was still sitting at the table and stuffing his face. "Oi! Ronniekins! Sit!"

Ron shot him a dirty glare but continued eating.

"See?" George said. "He catches on quickly."

"He was already sitting," Hermione pointed out dryly.

The twins' faces fell in unison. Fred gave her a truly sullen look. "Bit of a wet blanket, aren't you?" Before Hermione could defend herself, both of them shot their noses in the air and turned away.

"_Pffft_," George grunted haughtily. "We _pfft _on you."

"And on you, sir," Fred turned to his twin.

"Me?" George asked, affronted.

"Yes, you," Fred said sagely. "The lady says you haven't trained the boy properly."

George harrumphed and crossed his arms. "We have trained him properly in all matters that concern her."

"Complete with visuals," Fred added, waggling his eyebrows at Hermione suggestively, before he and George ran off, cackling.

This time, Ginny was certain she saw the flush rising on Hermione's cheeks.

Ginny suppressed a giggle and placed a sympathetic hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Come on then," she said, "Let's get your trunk then, shall we?"

Hermione nodded mutely, and this time Ginny did laugh as she shook her head and linked her arm through her friend's. Hermione seemed to snap back to her senses and frowned. "Your brothers, Ginny. Of all the nerve…"

"They're right gits, aren't they?" Ginny agreed. "I fancy myself lucky that Mum didn't find out just how bad they were before she had me."

Hermione laughed, and Ginny readily joined in, and the two continued to joke and tease the rest of the way down the hill.

"…don't suppose you've completed all your essays_ and_ the extra credit," Ginny was saying with a roll of her eyes, when suddenly she bumped into something, or rather someone, that had strayed across her path. She had nearly lost her balance when a strong hand grabbed her round the wrist and another came in to steady her.

Harry Potter was sporting a rather endearing red blush across his face when Ginny looked up. "Err, sorry, Gin," he said sheepishly while adjusting his glasses, "Having a little trouble with the latch on my trunk, and I wasn't really paying attention."

"Neither of us have been it seems," Ginny agreed amicably, well-aware that her cheeks were the same shade of crimson. "This is the second time in less than fifteen minutes!"

Harry nodded mutely, giving her a somewhat odd look, and Ginny chastised herself. _A bit obvious, don't you think? _She groaned mentally. _Just keep reminding him that you're a clumsy little girl. That'll really make you attractive._

Not that she cared whether or not she was attractive to Harry Potter, of course.

"See you guys up at the house then," Harry said rather abruptly. He took a few steps forward before pausing. "Unless you need help with your trunk, Hermione?" he inquired. Hermione shook her head, and Harry gave a quick nod. "Right then. See you."

"Bye, Harry," Ginny and Hermione said in unison.

As soon as Harry was out of earshot, Hermione was quick to round on Ginny. "And here I was thinking you were smitten with Dean!" she cried accusatorially.

Ginny was careful to keep her face blank. "I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Oh, I don't know. Green eyes, insanely messy hair, an inexplicably frustrating hero complex…Ring any bells?"

"I do not fancy Harry Potter," Ginny said peevishly.

"Bullocks," Hermione challenged. At Ginny's shocked expression, she continued. "Don't even give me that face, Ginny Weasley. I saw the way you looked at him."

"So I'm not allowed to look at him?" Ginny cried. "You're starting to sound like the gossipy Hufflepuffs in my year!"

"You know very well I wasn't referring simply to the fact that you looked at him," Hermione said. "But I know you don't look at Ron the same way you look at Harry."

"And how do I look at Harry?" Ginny questioned. "The way you look at Ron?"

Hermione's mouth snapped shut.

Ginny laughed bitterly. "Exactly what I thought. I'll keep your secret if you keep mine."

The pair didn't speak until they had collected Hermione's trunk and had almost reached the top of the hill. Somewhat hesitantly, Hermione was the first to break the silence. "But what about Dean?"

"What about Dean?" Ginny said. "He's a sweet boy, and I like him a lot."

Hermione looked conflicted. "But…"

"But nothing," Ginny cut her off. "Harry's just a childhood crush. Puppy love, I guess you could call it. I won't forget him, but I refuse to pine after him anymore. Dean's the real thing. He treats me right and generally seems to enjoy me being around. I'd rather have that than whatever I have with Harry."

"I suppose so," Hermione said uncertainly. "If that's what you really want."

Ginny nodded firmly. "It is."

Hermione only nodded back and averted her gaze, her eyes somewhat unfocused, and Ginny began to feel the first stirrings of guilt concerning how short she'd been. Biting her lip, she quickened her pace and linked what she hoped was a comforting arm through Hermione's.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to come off so rude."

Wordlessly, Hermione extracted her arm from Ginny, and when she looked back up, Ginny could see her eyes were full of regret. "I suppose I am too then. I shouldn't have doubted your intentions with Dean."

"Oh, go ahead and doubt them," Ginny tried to lighten the mood with a joke. "All my brothers do."

A slow smile spread over Hermione's features as she shook her head. "I'm going to go inside now," she chose her words carefully, "but I'm afraid I'm going to have to tell your brother that you are a naughty girl, Ginny Weasley."

"Don't do that!" Ginny cried mockingly, "I'll be locked in the shed until I'm thirty."

Hermione grinned but didn't disagree, and she gave Ginny a small wave before entering the house. "Maybe being in the dark for so long will help your freckles fade," Hermione called loftily as the door shut behind her.

Ginny shot a reproachful glare at where she had last seen the other girl. "Mean," she muttered under her breath before laughing. It wasn't till moments later that she realized that she had just been deserted for Harry and Ron, and this had probably been the last time she would talk to any of the trio this summer.

Of course, this only set her in a foul mood, and she stomped back over to her swing, only slightly comforted as it automatically began to sway beneath her. She hated being faced with the prospect of another joyless summer, in which she, Ginny Weasley, was forced to disappear in the wake of the terrific trio, lest she appear to be some sort of tag-along.

"Bugger," she said mournfully.


	2. A Perfect Day, A Perfect Lie

Despite her initial worries, Ginny actually found the seven days of the summer to be not as lonely as she had imagined. Yes, of course, there were a couple of _those _days, the days where Harry, Ron, and Hermione would disappear right away after breakfast, and all that was seen or heard of them was a flash of bushy brown hair or a bark of laughter, but usually, they would allow Ginny to join them in their escapades.

And despite her initial excitement, Ginny soon learned that perhaps the trio's coveted outings weren't as fun or important as she had imagined them to be. They had their share of jokes and laughs, but by the middle of the first day Ginny couldn't help but notice the awkward, heavy silences that would fall all too often when somebody, usually Ron, accidentally stumbled onto topic that would send somebody, usually Harry, into a brooding state. And then somebody, usually Ginny, would rack their brains for a way to cure the mishap.

"You know," Ginny said, somewhat desperately, to cover the silence that had followed after a thoughtless comment by, surprisingly, Hermione who had happened to mention a clever spell used in the Department of Mysteries, "I heard Mum mentioning a trip to Diagon Alley this weekend. Suppose we will, Ron?"

"Err, I don't see why not," Ron said, giving Ginny a hard look. Usually, she was a bit better at transitioning topics than this. "We've only got a couple weeks left before school starts."

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know why we couldn't just go ourselves. It's not as if we need her around to baby-sit anyway."

"Yeah," Ron said nonchalantly. "I don't particularly mind." A suspicious look crossed his face. "Why would _you _care whether she was there to watch over us or not?"

There was no disguising the regretful face Ginny made. "No reason, really. I'm just ready for a little more freedom, that's all."

This was the wrong thing to say. "Freedom to do what exactly?" Ron demanded. "And with whom?"

Ginny turned on Hermione accusatorily. "You told him Dean was coming, didn't you?"

Hermione had the good grace at least to look sheepish. "It came up. Honestly, Ginny, I was just warning him to keep away."

Ginny made a show of sighing heavily and crossing her arms, but deep down she knew that was all it was: a show. A quick glance in Harry's direction let her know what she was doing was working. He had long since shed his brooding shell, looking mildly interested, amused even, at what was taking place. Ginny felt a squirm of pleasure at being able to help him forget his sadness, if only for the moment.

She was ignoring the accompanying feeling of disappointment that he didn't seem in the least bit jealous that she was hinting of doing unspeakable things with Dean.

_Unspeakable things with Dean…_

Ginny's smile turned sickly.

She really was a horrible girlfriend, she mused, as conversation sparked around her once more, consisting of Hermione insisting that Ron be civil around Dean that weekend, and Ron staunchly maintaining that his kid sister deserved better. This, in turn, led to a strict lecture on what a good friend Dean had been to them that year among many other positive points, which was then retaliated by Ron mentioning that Ginny might have competition for Dean's affections if Hermione was so enamored, and _that _was followed by…

Good lord their arguments were mind-numbing, Ginny thought, annoyed, as she rubbed her temples. She glanced at Harry to see that her earlier efforts had gone to waste, as he fell into yet another contemplative silence under the cover of Ron and Hermione's bickering. Ginny had an almost undeniable urge to shake the pair and scold them like her mother. _Look at what you've done now!_

But she knew she couldn't. It would only serve to discomfort everyone involved, especially Harry.

Harry, who perhaps was in a better mood today than usual as he caught sight of Ginny's fingers massaging her head and cracked an amused, albeit small, grin. Ginny seized the chance to forge ahead, capitalizing on the door he had had nudged open. "Like an old married couple, aren't they?" she said in a loud whisper, meant to be overheard but still failing to catch the attention of Ron and Hermione.

Harry nodded. "I imagine they'll keep at it until they actually are an old married couple," he whispered back conspiratorially.

"Oh, they'll never stop," Ginny agreed. "I imagine we'll hear them bickering back and forth from their graves."

_Graves…_

Ginny winced, and Harry pretended not to notice. _Alluding to death_, Ginny scolded herself, _not a bright move. At all. Something Ron would do. Jesus, Gin. _A fleeting silence passed over them, but despite a clench of his jaw, Harry tried to forge ahead, unaffected. "Yes, well," he said with a cough, "I guess that puts us in the position of the eternal peacemakers."

"We could make a career of it," Ginny said, back to pretending that nothing had happened, "Mum would be so proud. I mean, yes, she's always fancied the idea of her daughter being a medi-witch but surely she'll be thankful for the load I took on someday. It'll be a public service, really." Harry and Ginny glanced over at the still heavily-involved pair in front of them and began to laugh.

At about this point, Ron and Hermione seemed to pick up on the fact that they were the topic of discussion. "I'm not sure what you said," Ron muttered darkly, his ears pink, "but sod off, both of you."

But those, of course, were the good days.

Harry was talkative and happy those days, almost deceptively so, and Ginny strongly suspected that he, and Ron and Hermione for that matter, were all caught up in some type of act. The bad days, come to think of it, weren't that much different except that the laughs came more forced and the smiles more tense. But there was always something much darker and palpable on the bad days too, looming over them, and Ginny was always afraid if she stretched her fingers above her head, she'd be able to grab hold of it.

In no time at all, Ginny became an expert at recognizing the signs that would inevitably lead to a bad day. A creak of the staircase at three or four in the morning followed by the sound of water running from the sink and into the glass--Harry's usual schedule post-nightmare, the rare mention of a missing ministry official in the Daily Prophet, the sight of Harry's fingers tracing his scar that indicated some type of dark activity…these, among others, were the main warning signs.

Sometimes, Ginny almost preferred the bad days. The group seemed more real these days, their act less transparent. They had undergone a tragedy last year, and Ginny couldn't help but wonder, occasionally, if they were going about the wrong way of dealing with what had happened. Particularly Harry. It seemed he had dropped his puberty-induced angry-at-the-world act from last year, and developed a much more masking one. The hurt from what had happened in the Department of Mysteries was heavily veiled during the daytime, and Ginny suspected, only to be allowed to show itself at night, both in his dreams and in the following ten minutes in which he blearily stumbled down her creaky steps to get himself a glass of water. The rest of the time, it was relegated to tearing Harry apart from the inside. It couldn't have been healthy.

Of course, Ginny didn't probe too deeply, as she was somewhat aware that she was guilty of not being able to face her own feelings concerning, well, everything as well.

But there was so much to confront, where could she start?

The answer wasn't easy to come by. For now, it was just neater and simpler to tuck everything away, neat and tidy, in some dark corner until she was ready. Until all of them were ready. For now, they could continue their façade, with smiles and good cheer to fool everybody into believing that they retained their innocence.

It was amazing how one night could tear so many people apart.

And it was also amazing how other people could keep on living, unaware or unaffected by the same tragedy.

Dean chattered on happily on the day Ginny met him in Diagon Alley.

"Been a while since we've been in touch, eh? I almost thought you wouldn't owl me back in time to meet up, but you did, and well, here we are," he said, shooting her a winning grin. It had been the first full sentence he had been allowed to say to her, as Hermione had only recently been able to drag away a protective Ron and cordial Harry off in the direction of Flourish and Blotts. Mrs. Weasley, in the end, had opted not to come, with the reasoning that it should only take them a few hours and she really did have _so _many chores around the house to do.

Ginny nodded, a half-hearted attempt to add to the conversation. Not that Dean noticed. "Beautiful day really; weathermen were saying it was a record high for London on the telly this morning. Really fantastic weather for ice cream, don't you think?"

It was shameful, but Ginny couldn't help but perk up at the words. It had been a while since she had treated herself to such a thing. Dean laughed. "I thought that would get a rise out of you. How about we head over to Fortescue's, and I'll buy you a cone?"

"Oh, no," Ginny said, waving him off, "I've got plenty of money to pay for myself." Which wasn't entirely true, Ginny thought as she fingered the dwindling change in her pocket, enough perhaps to afford the smallest cone, but it was the principle of the matter.

"I insist," Dean said staunchly. "I'm your boyfriend, and according to the manual this means I must hold your hand, tell you you're beautiful, and most importantly, buy you things. The manual is never wrong, you know."

"I'd like to get my hands on this manual," Ginny said, raising a brow.

Dean shook his head. "Anything else, Gin, but that would be a betrayal to all of my fellow men."

"Uh huh," Ginny said slowly, "And when you say _anything _else, you mean…"

Dean winced, "Unfortunate slip of the tongue. Let's keep things reasonable here, please, Gin?"

She made the effort to cross her arms over her chest and pout convincingly. "So I suppose this means no diamond ring?"

"It is a little soon for that," Dean pointed out with a furrowed brow.

"Fine," Ginny said, scowl still in place, "I suppose I can settle for a two scope cone of vanilla ice cream and sprinkles."

With a laugh, Dean settled an arm around her waist and steered her inside Fortescue's parlor. "Now, that I can manage."

A good twenty minutes later, thanks to the enormous crowd who had apparently agreed with Dean that it was the perfect day for a cone, Ginny and Dean were happily licking at their vanilla and mint-chocolate chip ice creams, respectively. Dean's arm was still snaked around Ginny's waist, and while normally Ginny would have found someway to subtly extract herself, she was in a good mood today and decided to try and enjoy the benefits of having a boyfriend. Besides, she was fairly certain she could see Ron's red hair bobbing over the crowd towards them.

She leaned further into Dean's hold. "Thanks for the ice cream," she murmured.

Dean laughed and gave her a small pinch in the side. "You'd better be thankful. After the warlock and I swear what had to be a vampire that I had to sneak around to get the front, and not to mention that little girl who kicked me in the shin, I went through a lot for that cone in your hands."

"Well, you could have just waited in line like everybody else," Ginny pointed out.

"Ah," Dean said with a careless shrug, "Where's the fun in that? Anyway, I've always wanted to be James Bond when I grow up."

"James Bond?" Ginny repeated cluelessly.

Dean sighed. "Muggle reference."

"Oh," Ginny said, making a mental note to ask Hermione about it later. "Well, James Bond, I don't suppose you could get us out of this."

"What?" Dean asked.

"This," Ginny repeated grimly as Ron came into clear view, his expression twisted angrily as Harry and Hermione struggled to keep up with his long strides.

"Thomas, you'd better have a good explanation as to why you're all over my sister in the middle of the street," he demanded as he charged up to them.

Dean cringed and began to take his arm away, but Ginny's fingers wrapped firmly around his hand before he could. "Well, considering he's my _boyfriend_, Ron," she said peevishly, "I'd have to say he did have a fairly good excuse. Besides, he wasn't _all over _me."

"Bullocks," Ron all but shouted, "I could see you two snogging from Gringotts."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "This," she said, gesturing to her and Dean's intertwined fingers, "is not snogging. This, on the other hand, is." Abruptly, she released Dean's hand and turned into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and crashing her lips onto his. Dean made a noise of surprise, but it came out as a moan, and Ginny reveled in the fact that it probably only made Ron more upset. After what she felt was a sufficient demonstration, Ginny pulled away, leaving a panting Dean. "Really, Ron," she said, only then raising her eyes to his, "Mum and Dad should have had a talk with you about this sort of thing a while ago."

Ron was positively purple, and Ginny felt the pleasurable warmth in her stomach of satisfaction. His mouth gaped open, but before he could explode, Hermione laid a hand on his arm. "Really, Ron," she said, "Now isn't the time or place to overreact." Ron said nothing, but Ginny could see some normal coloring return to his face, and she shot her friend a grateful smile. Hermione in return, glared, catching Ginny off guard. She happened to catch a glance at Harry's uncomfortable, almost embarrassed expression as well and wondered for the first time if she had gone too far.

Dean was still trying to catch his breath behind her, and Ginny fought the urge to roll her eyes again. At least somebody was happy. She averted her gaze in shame, only to see a couple of old biddies shaking their heads in her direction. Oh, bugger it. "I'm sorry," she said finally, breaking the silence and giving her boyfriend a good tug. "Come on, Dean. Let's go buy our books." He complied without protest, and they left the trio staring open-mouthed behind them.

"You know," Dean ventured hesitantly after a long while of silence. "You really don't have anything to be ashamed of, Gin. I thought what you did was clever. Funny, even."

"Of course you did," Ginny said sourly. "You got a good snog out of it."

Dean fell silent again, and Ginny didn't feel any remorse until she crawled into bed that night, begging off dinner with the excuse that the ice cream had given her a stomachache. She really was turning into a horrible person, she reflected as she curled deeper into her covers. To Dean, and to Ron, and to everybody else. In between the times she assured her family she was fine and sending off letters to Hermione and Dean, she had burrowed deeper within herself, creating her own little shell to block away others. One would have suspected, given everything that had happened last year that she and her brother would be that much more closer, bonded by their near-death experience.

On the contrary. Ginny and Ron's petty arguments had escalated steadily over the summer, to the point where they had gone days without speaking a word to each other, before Harry and Hermione had arrived. It would be over silly, unimportant things too, stuff that they would have laughed off within minutes in the past. Ginny's only guess as to why their fights had developed such an intensity was that they knew too much about each other.

Ginny and Ron had always been close. In age and in mannerisms. They blushed fiercely when embarrassed, laughed easily among friends, and put up unmatchable temper tantrums when they were angry. They both felt deeply about, well, a lot of things. They understood each other well. Ron could tell when Ginny was lying, and Ginny was able to get Ron in trouble for a number of things that he had never confessed, but she knew he had done when they were younger.

And because they knew each other so well, they could also see right through the acts they both put up this summer and witness something neither of them was ready to handle yet, that both of them wanted to remain tucked away in their respective corners. So it was best to stay away, to close themselves off, rather than to face their problems.

It was messy, but it was the only way to keep from falling apart.

Because, right now, falling apart just simply wasn't an option. Not for Ginny anyway. She had scorned the Ministry for it last year, but now she grudgingly had to agree that sweeping things under the rug, while wrong, had its appeal. It was easier somehow, better, to pretend everything was okay than to admit weakness. Ever since her first year and the summer following, when Ginny had been treated like a fragile baby doll, she had hated admitting weakness. _Hated it_.

Besides, it wasn't as if she was trying to pretend away Voldemort's existence, just covering the fact that it had shaken her so much. There was nothing wrong with that for the time being.

It was better this way, really.

_Author's Note: I know, I know. Long time between updates (not smart for a new story) and minimal H/G with lots of Dean/Ginny. What do you guys think of Dean anyway? Please read and review! The response last time was great, and I'm looking forward to reading more of your comments._


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